


I'm at a payphone, trying to call home

by goodbyelover



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Catharsis, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Jaebum is a good dude, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Past Character Death, Running Away, Sad and Sweet, tiny mentions of jackson and jinyoung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-01
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22979647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodbyelover/pseuds/goodbyelover
Summary: There wasn’t much he could do, really, not even when Youngjae started running off, only to be found at a park or a corner store a couple miles away. He didn’t know how Youngjae felt, having his beloved father replaced by a man he barely knew. Sometimes Jaebum wanted to ask, but the gap between them had felt improbable to bridge.So no, they’d never been that kind of friend.Or: Youngjae is running away from everything inside himself and Jaebum's going to bring him home.
Relationships: Choi Youngjae/Im Jaebum | JB
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48





	I'm at a payphone, trying to call home

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired very vaguely by Maroon 5's Payphone.
> 
> Thanks @maricolous for being the best beta ♥

When Jaebum came home from work on Tuesday, Mrs. Choi from next door was in the kitchen with his mother. He knew what was wrong the moment he saw her crying.

“He‘s gone,” she said, her voice ragged as Jaebum’s mother pushed a cup of tea towards her. “And we can’t call the police, god knows there have been too many false alarms, but it’s different this time. He left his phone. He took cash. None of his friends know where he went.”

“Did he mention anything to you, Jaebum?” his mother asked, glancing up at the sound of his footsteps, a frown of concern settled heavily on her lips. Though they had only known each other for a short few years, she had become good friends with their neighbor and Jaebum knew how much this issue weighed on them both.

Still, he shook his head. “Sorry.”

It was the sixth time in four months that Choi Youngjae had run away from home.

It had been five months since his mother had become engaged to a lovely gentleman from her pottery class.

It had been five years since Youngjae’s father had died.

Jaebum murmured something sympathetic, but soon crept away, leaving the comforting to his mother. She’d know all the right words to assuage Youngjae’s mother.

\---

“And he never even hinted about it?” Jaebum’s mother asked later that night, the two of them tidying the kitchen up while his dad took out the trash.

“We don’t really talk about that kind of stuff,” Jaebum said, shrugging as he took a freshly rinsed dish from her to dry, swiping mindlessly at the edge of the plate. Really, they didn’t talk much as a whole – it was always movie night or video games, and the lack of conversation was as comfortable as anything else.

Maybe it was just easier to not talk about this kind of thing.

He’d called everyone. Jackson, Yugyeom, Bambam, Jungkook, even Namjoon and Hoseok, _anyone_ else he could think of. News spread quickly, though, and not a single person had heard from Youngjae since he’d vanished after school that day. Nobody knew where he’d gone this time, all of their usual hangouts holding no trace of the boy, searched several times over.

It wasn’t like Jaebum would have been one to know the intimate details of Youngjae’s escape plans in any case. He and Youngjae had never been friends like that – the type of friends that had secrets and history. When Jaebum had moved into the apartment complex three years ago with his mother, Youngjae had just been entering high school. The too-young, noisy kid next door, except half their friends ended up the same and Youngjae turned out to be a pretty good gamer, and then Jaebum found himself not minding that Youngjae was so loud or obnoxious.

The change had been easy to see, once Youngjae’s mother had gone from just dating someone new to being engaged. Youngjae became quieter, began to frown more than he smiled, and drifted into the shadows more often. One didn’t have to be an expert on Youngjae to know how unhappy he was; it simply rolled off him. 

So Jaebum had noticed and watched and wondered. 

There wasn’t much he could do, really, not even when Youngjae started running off, only to be found at a park or a corner store a couple miles away. He didn’t know how Youngjae felt, having his beloved father replaced by a man he barely knew. Sometimes Jaebum wanted to ask, but the gap between them had felt improbable to bridge.

So no, they’d never been that kind of friend.

“Mind you,” his mother said, bringing him back to the conversation, “if you tried that with me, I’d have grounded you for life the first time.”

He laughed softly, leaned over to kiss her cheek, “I know, Mama, I know.”

\---

Youngjae hadn’t returned home the next morning.

\---

“That seems really messed up,” Jinyoung said, voice grainy in Jaebum’s phone speaker as they video chatted. 

“My mom’s pretty worried,” Jaebum admitted, tapping his pencil against the desk, squinting down at his homework. Statistics would be the death of him, even with Jinyoung waking up early to try and help him through it. “It’s... yeah.”

“Hope he’s back soon,” Jinyoung agreed, and Jaebum could only nod.

They shifted to other conversations – could Jinyoung start shipping stuff to Jaebum’s house? Had Jackson finished filling out the housing application? Was someone planning on buying a good espresso machine?

Still, Jaebum found it hard to focus, pencil tapping out his worry with each reply.

\---

The phone call came just after midnight. 

Jaebum was still awake, TV on and the volume practically muted, nothing more than a gentle rumble to accompany the slow ebb of his thoughts. He sprawled on his mattress, boneless, until his phone began to chirp loudly at him.

He snatched it up, having kept it off mute for one reason alone, and when he saw ‘Unknown Number’ flash across the screen, he hoped he’d been right in doing so, answering quickly. “Hello?”

There was a long moment of silence, long enough that Jaebum was sure he was wrong, ready to hang up, when the caller took a sudden deep breath. “… Hyung?”

It was a voice he recognized instantly. Jaebum sat bolt upright in bed, emotions surging as he found himself wide awake. “What the hell, Youngjae, do you have _any_ idea how worried your mom is about you?” he hissed, heat blooming in his chest. They had all been so worried.

“I know, I know,” Youngjae said quickly, taking another breath, all quick and shuddering. “I… I didn’t. I was just—“

Jaebum listened as Youngjae tried to get the words out, but everything was fractured words and broken sentences and nothing made sense. Nothing except Youngjae sounded scared and sad, smaller than he ever had before. 

He listened until Youngjae fell quiet and then softly asked, voice cracking with unshed tears, “Hyung, can you… can you come get me? Please?”

Jaebum was sneaking out of the house ten minutes later.

\---

Youngjae was much further than he’d gone before and it took Jaebum nearly an hour until he pulled up to the gas station Youngjae had promised he’d still be at. Youngjae sat on the curb, next to a dilapidated payphone, bathed in the harsh overhead lights and hugging his knees to his chest, trying to hide within the oversized hoodie he was wearing. 

He looked even more like a child and while Jaebum could still feel the soft burn of anger over Youngjae’s irresponsibility, it was nothing compared to the overwhelming wave of concern. It was a sad thing, seeing Youngjae’s face so unsmiling.

Parking nearby, he slid out from behind the steering wheel. Youngjae watched him, sadness and exhaustion and naked relief written all over his face, in the tug of his lips and the dark circles beneath his eyes.

“Hey,” Jaebum said, coming to a stop in front of Youngjae.

Youngjae glanced down, lower lip between his teeth. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late now,” Jaebum said, though he regretted the bite of it because it looked like Youngjae had been through enough on his own. When Youngjae tried to shrink even further into his hoodie, he sighed, hunkering down so they were eye to eye. “Hey. It happened. You can’t undo that. But I know that your mom and a whole lot of other people are just going to be glad you’re okay.”

“You didn’t tell her, right?” Youngjae asked, glancing up at Jaebum, searching his face for something. 

He should have. 

“I said I wouldn’t.”

Youngjae seemed to find what he was looking for, nodding slowly. “Thanks.”

Jaebum looked at Youngjae and then glanced at the harsh neon sign of the gas station. They were already here and Youngjae looked devastated still, like he was fragile and Jaebum would break him if they moved too fast. “Do you want ice cream?”

It was time he could afford to give Youngjae.

\---

“I know it’s bad,” Youngjae said, later, while they sat side by side on the trunk of Jaebum’s car, ice cream wrappers long since thrown away. He was picking at one of the rust spots, but Jaebum’s car was so old that Jaebum just let him. “It just gets…” Youngjae trailed off, and Jaebum waited, trying to give him the space he needed to say it, but Youngjae just dug his nail in harder and Jaebum did his best to bridge the gap.

“Is it because of the wedding?”

Youngjae jerked his face away, shoulders going rigid.

“Youngjae, this is the seventh time you’ve run off,” Jaebum said, biting back the apology he wanted to give him. It was an awfully blunt approach, but Jaebum couldn’t even offer to help if he didn’t understand what was going on inside Youngjae. 

But he wanted to help. “This can’t keep going.”

“I can’t _do_ it,” Youngjae hissed between clenched teeth, clearly fighting back tears. “I can’t.. I can't forget about him. And. And. And I can’t… I just fucking can’t.”

Jaebum reaches over, gently smooths his hand down Youngjae’s back. He won’t let Youngjae fall. “Do you mean your dad?”

The sound Youngjae made was wounded, a high pitched whine that was both pitiful and defenseless, and he hunched over and finally just fucking cried.

His grief came out wild and untamed, and threatened to overwhelm Jaebum, but Jaebum had made a promise and he stayed, carefully draped himself over Youngjae, pressed a cheek to Youngjae’s shoulder, and let him cry until there was nothing left.

\---

It was even later into the night – Jaebum wondered if he could call it morning, glanced up at the sky to see if the inky black had started to fade, but it wasn’t quite there yet. 

They’d lapsed into silence once Youngjae had finally cried himself to exhaustion, still sat out on the trunk, though Youngjae had scooted himself further back, hugging his knees to his chest. He looked spent, the dark circles under his eyes having grown larger as time went on.

Jaebum chose to break the silence first. “We shouldn’t stay out too late.”

Youngjae nodded, staring at his knees for a few moments and rocking gently, before finally speaking. “I miss him. My dad. I really… I really miss him.”

It was an admission Jaebum didn’t expect – Youngjae had already been so vulnerable to him and they’d never had anything like this before – and he was cautious in choosing his words this time. There were things he wanted to say, his first thoughts always being his true intention, but he knew he couldn’t push Youngjae quite yet. He opened his mouth and then paused, trying to think about what Jinyoung or his mother would say.

“Your mom just wants you to be happy. I don’t think anyone would ever ask you to forget him.”

Youngjae gently nodded, not even hesitating. “I know,” he murmured, “I just…”

He drew in a deep breath, and it felt like a brave thing. Jaebum almost told him that, but held back, giving Youngjae the space he needed.

“It’d be so much easier if I hated him,” Youngjae said, like a confession (had he told anyone else this before? Jaebum didn’t know). “If my gut told me he was _bad_. I think my mom would listen to me if I said that… said that Wooshik gave me bad vibes, that I didn’t feel safe with him.”

His lips twisted bitterly. “Problem is, he’s actually pretty fucking great.”

“So I’m just… stuck. Here. Being unreasonable, being _terrible_ , and I know… I know it makes Mom sad. I don’t… I don’t mean to make her sad. She really deserves to be happy. But… sometimes it just gets to be too _much_ .” Youngjae scrubbed at his face with his sleeve, too drained to cry again, but clearly still hurting, even as he continued. “My brother and sister are both married and they have kids and I _know_ they miss him too, but sometimes… sometimes it feels like I’m the only one who is still sad and it just really– It’s too much and I just need to _go_ and it’s hard to stop running because it just… it just...”

“It hurts,” Jaebum said, not needing to draw from personal experience to know what Youngjae felt. It was plainly written across his face, and had been evident in every sob he had cried earlier.

Youngjae nodded, falling quiet again and fiddling with his jacket.

They sat for a while, silence stretching between them yet again, the space making Jaebum ill at ease, worried that if he let it settle for too long, Youngjae would slip away and be gone again. Needing to pull Youngjae back in, he finally spoke.

“Why’d you call me and not someone else? Like Jackson. Or your siblings?”

It brought Youngjae back to the present and he smiled sheepishly, rubbing at his cheek with the hem of his jacket sleeve. “Because… because I knew they'd just do the right thing.”

Jaebum smiled wryly, wondering what that said about Youngjae’s opinion of him. 

It was true, Jackson would have done the right thing. He’d have told Youngjae’s mother before haring off to go pick Youngjae up and he wouldn’t have lingered, instead taking him home where he’d be safe and sound. It was what was best for Youngjae and that was what good friends like Jackson wanted.

And yet Youngjae had called _him_. And Jaebum hadn’t told either of their mothers, nor had he taken Youngjae home. Now that their ice cream was finished, he wondered why he hadn’t. 

Maybe there was something better Jaebum could do instead.

_It’s hard to stop running._

Maybe.

“Youngjae,” Jaebum began slowly. “You know how Jackson and I are planning on moving closer to school with one of my friends when he gets back from the States?”

“Uh… Yeah, I guess,” Youngjae said, looking wildly confused, but Jaebum had a plan half hatched in his head and maybe this _was_ something he could offer Youngjae.

“Let's make a deal,” he said. “You stop running off. This is the last time. You _promise_ me it’s the last time. And then… I think, if it ever becomes too much, you can come over to my place and just hang out for a bit.”

Neither Jackson nor Jinyoung would mind, and Jaebum was pretty sure Youngjae’s family would just be relieved that he’d be somewhere safe. Wasn’t it worth a try? Maybe this could work. 

Maybe Jaebum could give Youngjae something to run towards, instead of always running _away._

Youngjae stared at Jaebum, surprised but no longer withdrawn. “You mean that?”

“I mean it,” Jaebum confirmed, holding up his pinky. “Deal or no deal?”

Huffing, Youngjae considered the proffered pinky and all that it entailed, and Jaebum gave him time to think about it. It was time he could afford to give Youngjae.

His chest bloomed with relief when Youngjae untangled his sleeves and reached his own pinky forward, hooking them together. “Deal.”

Their pinkies bounced between them. It felt binding.

“Deal,” Jaebum echoed and finally slid off the trunk of the car. “Come on, Youngjae. Let's get you home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Mayhaps there is a sequel featuring Jinyoung. We'll see.
> 
> Thanks for reading! ♥


End file.
